AN: I've had this little bunny hopping around my head for a long time now and thought I publish it.. also this is my firs fan fic, so please be nice.. Please review, I really want to know what you think.
She screamed out in pain again wishing that this torture session would end. She should be used to it by now 3 years of captivity with weekly torture, not to mention the daily abuse. Her name, Vivian Hunter. This time was worse than the earlier though, this time, he did the torturing.
Earlier some of his underlings would come and do their worst, ranging from whiping to the cruciatus and everything in between. But not this time. This time he had come, he said some spell that she didn't recognise and then a searing pain erupted in her arm, as if someone was boiling it and cutting into it at the same time. And it lasted for hours.
At the end of it she was ready to tell him what he wanted to know, however she couldn't, for she didn't know herself. When it was over he just left, not saying a single word. When the cell door closed behind him Vivian looked down on her arm, fully expecting to see it covered in blisters and cuts. But what she saw was much worse. There on her arm was the dark mark in red, at the sight of it tears stinged the back of her eyes and she broke down in sobs.
Never in the 7 years she had been there had she ever cried. But now she let it all out, she cried over her lost friends and the innocent lives lost the day she was captured, she cried over the thousands of scars littering her body and the constant wound on her ankle where the shackle chaining her to the wall sat, she cried over the fact that you could see every last bone in her body from living on hard bread and water for 3 years. Exhausted she curled up in the corner of the cell, hugging her legs to her chest and leaning against the wall, and fell asleep.
About a year later, at least she thought it was a year, she woke up from a rough kick in the side. Looking up she saw Dolohov. "get up" he said in a stern tone. She did as he said, not wanting to be abused more than necessary. When she was standing he waved his wand and the shackle around her ankle disappeared, Vivian looked at him confused. Instead of answering her silent question he just grabbed her arm and started walking.
Why are we leaving the cell? She thought to herself I've never left the cell before. The walk was uneventful except for the occasional stumble on Vivians part and a following reprimanding blow from Dolohov. After what to Vivian felt like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes, they arrived in a big room with a throne like chair on a plateau at the other end of it. On the throne he sat, Lord Voldemort.